


all I want is your candy

by lostlenore



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Crack, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 01:54:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15474912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlenore/pseuds/lostlenore
Summary: “Shindou?” Touya says from the doorway, in a tone of utter horror, “are yougiving my dad honmei choco?”





	all I want is your candy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acchikocchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acchikocchi/gifts).



> Happy birthday M <3, sorry the title is aaron carter.

Hikaru’s let Sai talk him into some wild shit in the past: Internet Go superstardom, cappuccinos, dropping out of school at fourteen, shaping his eyebrows in ways that would have Akari gasping in horror, and still, standing in the gaping maw of Tokyu Hands Shibuya, gazing at the holiday supplies with detached horror, Hikaru still finds it within himself to be surprised.

“It’s perfect,” Sai breathes, rapturous. His eyes sparkle like a bad shojou manga, replete with a background of dewy plastic roses.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Hikaru says. He’s experiencing regret; it’s a new and uncomfortable feeling, Hikaru is not a fan.

“Hikaru!” Sai whines, “You promised! How am I supposed to express my admiration to my most esteemed rival when I don’t have any hands? How is he going to taste my love?”

“I will literally pay you money to not have this conversation,” Hikaru hisses out of the corner of his mouth. A group of schoolgirls in a cluster near the stationary look at him and begin whispering furiously to themselves.

“I’ll buy him something nice," he says in his careful Bargaining With Crazy People voice he saves for particularly awful clients and Ochi, who has serial killer eyes. "You can write a heartfelt card, and we’ll leave it in his locker.”

“You can’t give the Meijin _giri choco_ ,” Sai shrieks, at such a horrified volume that Hikaru buys ¥3,000 worth of glitter and cocoa power just to shut him up, and doesn't make eye contact with the cashier. 

* * *

Hikaru would rather be haunted by twenty ghosts than try to explain to his mother why he’s making honmei chocolate for a married fifty-something man, which means throwing himself on Akari’s tender mercies.

“Tell me more about how men are useless,” Akari says, perched on the counter with a juice pouch, clearly relishing the reversal of power.

“Akari, come on,” Hikaru says, lifting his head out of seiza. “Please?”

“I have always wanted a minion,” Akari says, considering. “Is this for Touya?”

“She knows!” Sai gasps, and Hikaru curls into a ball on the floor, praying for the sweet release of death.

* * *

The next day, after the tears are shed, literal blood has been spilt, and Hikaru had swapped the sugar for salt at least twice and burned a hole in the linoleum, Sai had his prize.

The bag sits on Hikaru’s lap, drenched in glitter and vomiting gold ribbon, drawing the gaze of every nosy auntie taking the crosstown train at two in the afternoon on a Monday. Inside are two small chocolate cups containing a number of white and black chocolate go tiles, and a board-shaped card effusive with Sai’s exquisite calligraphy. The chocolate is theoretically edible. Hikaru has his doubts, but he keeps his mouth shut; the sooner this whole mess is over, the sooner he can go back to squatting in his room like a gremlin, terrorizing old farts into retirement and fighting with Touya as god intended.

There’s no one in the club room at this hour, and Hikaru makes his way to the mail slots, combing through the wall of names until he finds one Touya, Kouyou.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Sai asks, for what must be the one millionth time.

“Shut up it’s fine,” Hikaru says.  “Akari ate one and she didn’t die.”

“Hikaru, I’m serious!” Sai moans. “What if he doesn’t know they’re from me? What if he hates them? What if someone steals them before he can eat them?!?”

“They’d be doing him a favor,” Hikaru mutters, when a new voice cuts in.

“Shindou?” Touya says from the doorway, in a tone of utter horror, “are you _giving my dad honmei choco?_ ”

“Fuck,” Hikaru says, meeting and mirroring Touya’s look of wide-eyed terror. “This isn’t what is looks like.”

“Really?” Touya says, his voice climbing in pitch, “because you’re holding a bag of chocolate and standing next to his shoebox--”

“You’re dreaming,” Hikaru says, waving his hands like he’s signalling traffic. Maybe a helicopter will drop out of the sky and carry him away to a deserted island to end his suffering. “You ate some bad hitsumabushi and this is all a very weird, lifelike hallucination.”

“I don’t even like hitsumabushi!” Touya screeches. Hikaru estimates he’s about five seconds away from slapping him with a pair of gloves and calling him a homewrecker. He casts about desperately for an excuse, and his eyes land on the mailbox next to him.

“They’re…for you....” Hikaru blurts out, and has the split-second satisfaction of watching Touya’s jaw snap shut.

“Oh my God,” Sai shouts, but it's not a _bad_ excuse. It’s marginally less embarrassing than Touya thinking he wants to bone down his dad, because at least Touya is his age, and good at Go, and has pretty hair. Or whatever.

“Oh my god,” Sai and Touya say in tandem. And then, instead of tearing Hikaru's spleen out through his nostrils like Hikaru expected, Touya goes all pink and pleased and shy, and Hikaru doesn't know what to do anymore.

* * *

This must be a joke, Hikaru decides, after long, sleepless hours of deliberation. It’s all a terrible joke, and Touya is sitting in his monstrous old house, plotting his revenge, and Hikaru is an idiot for focusing on the soft, hesitant way Touya had smiled when he’d taken the bag, one hand nervously tucking the same strand of hair behind his ear, fingers trembling. Rather than live in fear of Touya’s inevitable, horrible retaliation, Hikaru takes the initiative to end this nonsense once and for all.

“So you’re going to tell him?” Sai says, watching Hikaru crawl through the dusty storeroom window of the Touya mansion, twisting his hands and looking not nearly regretful enough for bringing this bullshit to Hikaru’s door in the first place.

“I would rather die,” Hikaru says, wishing one of the spiders colonizing the storeroom would just bite him and put him out of his misery already. “I’ll just...explain things.”

He has the store bought and infinitely more edible valentine for Touya Sr. in his backpack. He’ll leave it in the entryway, where it will look like a normal gift from a fan instead of weird ghostly stalker, and he and Touya can...well...Hikaru hasn’t gotten that far yet.

He’s wedged halfway through the window when he hears a distant ghostly wailing coming from Touya’s room directly above.

Sai disappears through the ceiling and returns glaring at Hikaru.

“I didn’t do it,” Hikaru says reflexively.

“He’s lying on the floor listening to Utada Hikaru,” Sai says, the words heavy with disapproval. “He’s holding _my_ chocolates.”

Sure enough, the noise overhead resolves itself into First Love, and Hikaru laughs so hard he falls through the window, hitting what are surely several anvils and a small boulder before landing on the floor.

The music overhead cuts out abruptly. Hikaru can hear familiar angry footsteps on the stairs and then the door is thrown open, revealing Touya is all his pink-cheeked fury.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE,” he shouts, hauling Hikaru through the tatami room and dropping him on the front stoop. His bangs are pinned back with little plastic clips, and there’s a smudge of chocolate in the corner of his mouth. Hikaru is helpless to do anything other than smile stupidly as Touya tosses him on the lawn.

“You’re legally obligated to give me a month to respond,” he says, and all the blood in Hikaru’s body runs cold.

“What was that about?” Sai says, flitting about Hikaru, checking him for injury.

“White day,” Hikaru says with a shudder, feeling his soul physically leave his body and drift out into the blue February sky.

* * *

Touya sends what looks terrifyingly like a ransom note demanding that Hikaru meet him behind the Go parlor on the 14th of March at seven o’clock.

“He’s going to murder me,” Hikaru says, for the 500th time, though his heart’s not really in it anymore. Touya thrives on brutal efficiency; if he truly wanted Hikaru dead he wouldn’t have waited a month to kill him. No, Hikaru has had a month to think, anticipation roiling in his stomach with equal parts dread and horniness. He doesn’t know what Touya has in store for him, but he’s sure that whatever it is won’t be boring.

“He’s not going to murder you,” Sai says, and rolls his eyes. It’s a terribly human gesture, and Hikaru has no one to blame for that but himself.

Touya’s waiting for them in the back alley, away from the prying eyes of the chain-smoking grandaddies in the parlor and the overly-attentive hostess. The streetlights halo the blunt cut of his hair, and highlight the inkwash lines of his face. Hikaru thinks, deep in his monkey hindbrain, that as accidental confessions go, he could’ve done far, far worse that Touya Akira.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, over the past month,” Touya says, with same thoughtful frown Hikaru knows from hundreds of matches means Touya is gearing up to play a move that steals Hikaru’s breath away. “And I decided...not to buy you anything.”

Hikaru’s a little betrayed by how much that hurts. Maybe it was sort of an accident, but in the last month he’s sort of imagined this moment a lot, and he thinks...maybe...that accident or not it might be good. It might be something he wants.

“Hikaru,” Touya says, sounding annoyed, and  _ whoa _ \--when did he get so close? “Were you listening?” 

“Of course,” Hikaru says, “I obviously hang off of every single word that-- _ mmpf _ ” Touya leans in, the ends of his hair soft where they brush Hikaru’s jaw, and he kisses Hikaru right on the cheek.

Or, well, he tries to.

Touya’s kind of new at this. Also fate hates Hikaru in a deeply perverse way, so as he turns his head to see what the fuck is going on, he gets Touya’s mouth square on his mouth.

Hikaru’s brain, alight with the potential awfulness of the situation, thinks that instead of being branded a tarty homewrecker who seduces married men with shitty chocolates, he’ll get to forever live in Touya family lore as the pervert who stole Akira’s first kiss. 

“Shindou,” Touya sighs, biting at Hikaru’s lower lip, vocally encouraging Hikaru to steal his second kiss, his third kiss, and Hikaru loses count, giving himself over to the soft heat of Touya’s mouth. He tastes faintly of chocolate. 

"So, not a murder then," Sai says dryly, and Hikaru finds it within himself to spare him a finger. 


End file.
